


Learning to Waltz

by AccioInvisibilityCloak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, GOF Missing Moments, Gen, Neville's POV, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Slight Touch of Romance, Yule Ball, anon prompt fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:52:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6454411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccioInvisibilityCloak/pseuds/AccioInvisibilityCloak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville wants a date to the Yule Ball, but he doesn't know how to dance. Or talk to girls. Ginny just wants to be allowed to go to the Ball in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning to Waltz

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for an anonymous Tumblr prompt last year.

            Neville honestly isn’t that surprised to find himself without a date to the ball. He isn’t sure he even wants to go, it will just be a whole lot of people he doesn’t know being all couple-y and dancing. Neville doesn’t even know how to dance. He’d tried his best to follow along when Professor McGonagall had taught the Gryffindors to waltz, but all he’d accomplished was to step on Parvati Patil’s feet a lot because he was so nervous to be dancing with the prettiest girl in the year. He’s no good at this stuff.

Still, though, he’d thought if he went with Hermione, they could just pal around and watch their friends dancing, and she probably wouldn’t mind so much if he stepped on her feet. He liked Hermione, she was nice to him. Even when she was turning him down, she was unbearably nice to him, and he really did hope she would have a nice time, whoever her date was.

He supposes he could just go alone… But then he remembers what Ron said the other day. “It’s one thing for a girl to come alone, but for a bloke, it’s just sad.” So clearly, he can’t go alone.

He’s sitting in the common room, contemplating this problem, when a familiar redheaded girl sits down in an armchair near his own.

 

          “Hi, Neville,” says Ginny Weasley tiredly. She’s sucking on the end of a sugar quill and staring dejectedly at the other side of the room, where Harry and Ron are goofing off and slacking off on their homework. Hermione isn’t around, so they’re free to ignore all their responsibilities.

“Hello, Ginny,” Neville replies. “How’re you?”

“Too young to do anything fun, ever,” she says bitterly. “I swear, ever since first year they think I’m this weak little kid who needs to be protected from everything. If it isn’t my brothers mothering me, it’s the school itself! ‘You aren’t old enough to try out for Quidditch, Ginny. You can’t go to the ball, you’re only in third year. You can’t eat sugar quills, they make you hyper.’ Maybe I _want_ to be hyper, did they ever think of that?”

“I’m sorry,” says Neville sincerely.

“It’s not your fault,” Ginny says around the sugar quill. “Why do you look so sad, then?”

“Because I can’t dance,” Neville admits dejectedly, without thinking. He knows, he just knows, he’s turned crimson. “Er… that is…”

“You’re having Yule Ball problems too? Figures. The Triwizard Tournament sucks, don’t you think?” Ginny pouts.

“It does seem a little…”

“I think we should be sad and annoyed together, Neville. Would you like to be sad and annoyed together?”

“Er, okay, Ginny,” he says, uncertain.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Ginny perks up, sitting up straighter. Neville notices that the sugar quill is almost down to a nub in Ginny’s hand. The sugar must be working its magic, or maybe that’s just Ginny’s spunk kicking in. She’s formidable when she gets going.

“Look, you need help with dancing, and I know how to dance. Why don’t you show me what you’ve got, and I’ll see if I can help you at all, okay?”

 

           He isn’t sure about this at all, but the Common Room is mostly empty, and it can’t hurt, after all. So Neville gets up, closes his eyes, and waltzes around with an imaginary partner in his arms. He trips over his own feet, several times in fact, and gets so dizzy he can barely stand. Ginny laughs, not unkindly. Neville starts at the nearby sound. She isn’t over by the fire anymore.

He opens his eyes to see her standing there, smiling at him. She takes his hand and places it on her waist, slips her other hand into his free one. Neville grins nervously back as Ginny takes the lead, guiding him in gentle circles around the small space in front of the fire. They move so smoothly, he doesn’t have to worry about getting dizzy, and he only steps on her feet once or twice. She doesn’t seem to mind.

“Ginny?” he asks as they make another turn. “Would you… maybe if… do you think you’d like to come to the ball with me?”

He isn’t sure what makes him ask the question, isn’t sure why, for once, his voice doesn’t even wobble when he speaks. She considers him for a moment.

“Neville, I think I’d like that, yes,” she answers, and he’s flooded with relief. He won’t have to go alone, or dance by himself in his dorm room. Because he’s a fourth year, Ginny will be able to get into the dance if she goes with him, and even though they’ve never spent much time together, she’s always seemed nice enough. They might even have some fun, he thinks.

Of course, his feet choose that moment to trip spectacularly over each other, and he almost catapults both of them into the fire. Ginny laughs again, when they’ve righted themselves.

“I think we’ll need a little more practice, first.”

 

           So they get together a few nights a week, leading up to the ball, to practice. Neville discovers that he and Ginny have a fair bit in common- overbearing family members who find them weak and look down on them despite meaning well; terrible marks in Potions; a passion for Quidditch. They even both support the Holyhead Harpies (Gran likes them, and Neville has never dared support any other team, not that he ever really wanted to root for anyone else). They have a few of the same Gryffindor friends, although Ginny is more of a social butterfly.

They have more than enough to talk about for an entire evening together, and their dancing improves exponentially. At the ball, he only steps on her toes once the whole night, and he never once trips up or loses his place in the dance. He has a lot of fun, and she does too. He can kind of tell that she wasn’t expecting to enjoy this much, that she’s here with him mostly so she can be here at all.

She does enjoy it, though, or so she tells him, smiling brightly as they waltz under the snowy magical roof. They dance literally all night- he doesn’t get back to the dorm until very late. Before parting at the portrait-hole, Ginny kisses him on impulse, just a peck, light and sweet. It’s his first kiss, and he can’t stop dancing for the life of him.

 

           They never end up dating after that night, but they do stay good friends. Ginny, along with Luna, is his rock and his confidante and co-conspirator during the Second War, helping keep the D.A. alive and the students of Hogwarts safe.

Once, in their Room of Requirement headquarters, after a Potterwatch broadcast, they put on Celestina Warbeck and waltz again, just for fun.

Neville takes Luna for a spin around the room, laughing all the way as she bats away the Nargles. He dances with Hannah and his heart beats a little bit faster, and when Ginny asks if she can cut in, she teases him mercilessly about his crush as they slowly spin, easily, happily, for once not worrying about anything at all- not the Carrows nor the torture nor the uncertainty of survival. He allows himself to forget it all, as he dances with his old friend.

But the steps to the waltz- those, he remembers perfectly.


End file.
